Ethereal Excerpts
by Got Tea
Summary: CSI Forever Online Challenge. A series of drabbles set in the Ethereal Universe. Stories are not in any chronological order.
1. Simple Pleasures

In response to the outrageous latest episode, this is a challenge at CSI Forever Online. One or a series of drabbles, 500ish words each. Must be GSR happiness; fluffy, sexy or whatever you like, as long as Griss and Sara are happy together. Show the love people; keep the hope alive.

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Gil walked gratefully through the front door of his home, turning the key behind him. It had been a long, lonely shift without Sara and his hopes of making it home in time for breakfast with his girls before the school run had been dashed by a double homicide in a fireplace. Dropping his effects on the hall table, he headed for the stairs, changing direction when a glance into the family room made his heart warm. Leaning in the doorway he let a soft smile spread over his face as he observed his sleeping wife reclined on the sofa with their five month old daughter Kati snoozing peacefully on her chest.

Stepping into the room, he smoothed a hand over the errant tufts of curly brown hair covering Kati's head, and then carefully lifted her into his arms. She fit there snuggly, and unconsciously burrowed into his hold, her mouth open in a half smile half grimace that she seemed to adopt whenever she slept. He stroked her back soothingly, inhaling the scent of baby powder. Sara stirred at the lack of weight on her chest, and he reached down and cupped her cheek, smoothing a thumb over her eyebrow.

"Hey," she murmured sleepily, without opening her eyes.

"Hi beautiful," he returned, sitting beside her and pressing a tender kiss to her lips.

"Me, or monster kiddo here?" she asked, smiling fondly as she traced her fingers over Kati's arm.

"Uh oh, bad night?"

"All night," she confirmed. "She only fell asleep in the car on the way home from school."

"Oh dear," he sighed, "Little Miss Katarina, what are we going to do with you hmm?" he asked, brushing his lips lightly over the infant's crown.

"You didn't answer my question," she teased him, as she pushed herself to her feet. He stood with her, winding an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a soft, loving kiss that turned slowly into a series of soft kisses.

"Oh, both of you," he grinned, pulling back. "Why don't you run a bath while I put the beautiful monster here to bed, and then I'll come and join you?"

…

Sara was just relaxing in a tub full of hot water when Gil arrived. He slipped in behind her and kissed her shoulder, winding his fingers through hers and hugging her body to his chest as she lay back against him.

"Good shift?"

"Pretty ordinary," he rested his cheek against the top of her head and sighed happily.

"Have you written the schedules for next month?" She hummed happily as his fingers kneaded her sore neck.

"Tomorrow," he murmured, lips dragging across the back of her neck.

"We both need Saturday off in three weeks."

"Ok, what are we doing?"

"Kaia has a meet; level eight qualification."

"Already? Didn't she just make level seven."

"Tell me about it. It's been just over a year. She could have tried two months ago, after her birthday, but she had the flu, remember?"

"Yes I do. Ok, I'll give us both the weekend off in exchange for taking Thanksgiving shifts for the others. No explanations needed."

"I knew there was a reason I married you," she whispered, turning to pull him into a breathless, exhilarating kiss.


	2. Diving Lessons

Alexa Sidle clutched her ribs as tears of laughter ran down her face. Sophie hauled herself out of the pool, spluttering as she spat out a mouthful of water. In the shallow end, Sydney gripped the edge of the ladder as she gasped in deep lungful's of air in between hysterical giggles. Seven year old Kaia sat on a ledge, feet dangling in the water, face pressed into her knees as her body shook with silent mirth. Sara and Gil walked out of the house and onto the deck, their eyes flicking from one child to another before Sara raised an eyebrow at her grandmother. Alexa simply shook her head, still to amused to talk, and held out the video camera she had been using. Gil retrieved it and pressed rewind.

The girls had been engaged in a competition; who could do the best dive off the springboard at the deep end of the pool. The clip ran through Sydney showing off a simple but elegant backward somersault and a clean entry into the water, and then Kaia displaying her athletic prowess with multiple flips and turns. Then they saw Sophie's attempt. The older twin bounced at the end of the springboard, once, twice, three times. But as she came down to make her final leap, her feet landed separately, one after another and she shot into the air at a diagonal, flailing all four limbs in a frantic effort to regain control before crashing through the surface of the water and showering everyone with a tremendous wave of water.

Sara put a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter as Sophie shook her head in defeat. Gil looked at her, his lips twitching.

"I'm glad to see you're learning a lot at that Friday trampoline class you're so enthusiastic about," he told her, his face as straight as he could manage. Sophie pulled a mock scowl.

"Why don't you show me how it's done then?" she challenged.

"Yeah Gil," taunted Sara, smirking at him, "you show her, if you're the expert." He swallowed, and then kicked off his sandals, tossed his towel onto the table and walked to the end of the pool.

"Nothing to it," he muttered to himself trying for encouragement. He tested the board with his feet; it shifted smoothly. Yeah, he could do this. He grinned at his girls and bent his knees to bounce. One, two, three. He shot into the air, pulled his body into a ball and rolled forward. Intending to land feet first he unwound himself and smacked face first into the water in an outstanding belly flop.

Surfacing, he gulped in a lungful of air, clutching his stinging chest. When he worked up the courage to open his eyes, five faces contorted in expressions of mirth stared back at him as the musical sound of his women laughing echoed throughout the garden.

"You failed miserably," Kaia informed him with brutal honesty, before executing another perfect dive. When she surfaced, Gil showered her in waves of water. The twins grabbed water guns, taking aim with alarming accuracy and then Sara ran towards him, leaped, and cannonballed into the water at his side. With the addition of their mother, the water fight changed directions; all three girls out-numbering, out-gunning and out-soaking their parents.

Gasping with the effort of trying to fight back, Gil dived under water and swam for the far end, pulling Sara with him. They surfaced behind the waterfall, breathing heavily and staring at each other.

"They're much better at this than they were last summer," wheezed Sara. He nodded, peering around the cascade, looking for trouble. Their girls were clustered together, regrouping.

"I say we split and go for a surprise two-pronged attack," he suggested.

"Ready when you are dear," she agreed.

"Ok, just one thing first," he pulled her to him and kissed her soundly. Pulling back he grinned at her. "For luck, and just in case!"


	3. European Pizza

Sara set the table with some trepidation. Periodically, her girls, now twelve and eight, decided it would be a good idea to cook dinner by themselves. The results were almost always unusual. She looked at Gil with a mixture of attempted hope and wary nervousness. He shrugged, and settled nine month old Kati in her high hair.

"I can always make mac and cheese if it's a disaster," he shrugged, wincing as a metallic crash echoed from across the kitchen, followed by a burst of giggling and a series of camera flashes. To his credit, he didn't turn around to check, keeping his promise that this be their daughter's endeavour. Sara cringed at the scent of charred something rose into the air. More giggles spread through the room.

"Dinner is served," proclaimed Kaia proudly as Sophie placed a large round baking tray in the centre of the table.

"It looks wonderful," said Sara, filling her voice with enthusiasm as she struggled not to gape at the multi-coloured mess before her.

"What is it?" asked Gil, cautiously.

"European pizza," grinned Sydney.

"Come stand over here and look at it," suggested Sophie. Doing as they were told, Gil and Sara assembled themselves next to their offspring and looked down at their meal.

"Oh wow," exclaimed Sara, seeing the picture. It was indeed European pizza. Various different vegetables had been used to form a map of Europe, including individual countries, major rivers and lakes.

"What's this?" asked Gil, pointing to the ocean.

"Mozzarella, and a little blue food colouring," said Kaia. "Miss Daniels wanted us to make an original and creative map of Europe because we're learning about it in class," she explained. "Since I can't take the pizza to school because we're going to eat it, Syd took pictures for me."

"Very inventive," laughed Gil. "I like it."

"It's beautiful," agreed Sara, "but I think we should eat before it goes cold."

"I want the bit with Italy on it," said Sophie, sliding into her seat.

"Why?" asked Sara.

"Because she spent ages trying to get the shape right," laughed Sydney.

…

Hours later, with the girls settled in bed, Sara stood in front of the bathroom mirror getting ready for work. She stared at her reflection with dismay.

"Oh it's a good thing one of us has the night off," said Gil as he stood beside her, just as thunderstruck at his reflection as his wife was with hers. "Can you imagine if we both turned up looking like this?" Slowly she shook her head as she looped a scarf around her neck.

"What am I going to say?" she wondered, pulling on her jacket. He racked his brains for an excuse, thinking desperately until he hit on a solution.

"Tell them you bought some frosted cookies from a stall outside the market," he suggested, still admiring the girls' handiwork. The pizza had, surprisingly, been delicious, but bedtime had shown a complication; the dye in the cheese had turned their teeth a lovely shade of blue that no amount of brushing would remove.

"That'll have to do," she sighed, shaking her head in amusement. She picked up her bag and kissed him good bye. "If they try to call you in, you had better not answer the phone." He began to laugh, kissing her again and walking her to the door.

"Have a good night, be safe," he murmured in her ear. "I love you."

"I love you too," she returned, and with a final lingering hug and kiss she was gone. Gil shut the door behind him with a sigh; he had twenty-four hours to come up with a method of restoring their teeth to the right colour.

...

...

Because these stories are not in chronological order, I will give the age of at least one of the girls in each drabble to make it easier to place them in the timeline. Sydney and Sophie are four years older than Kaia, who is eight years older than Kati. Alexa dies two months before Kati is born. I'm building a timeline which I will put on my CSI Forever Online page when it's done if anyone is interested in having a visual reference.

Happy reading, please read and review.


	4. Rainy Days and Family

**Rainy Days and Family**

It was raining. And being the Nevada desert, it never just rained, it poured. Gil was lying stretched out the length of the sofa with Sara curled against him. His arm draped around her waist and her head rested just under his chin. Her breathing was soft and even as she napped, exhausted from yet another string of cases. In the arm chair to his left Kaia was devouring a novel, her attention held fast by the enchanting mysteries of The Famous Five.

Sophie was sprawled in the chair at the other end of the couch, legs over one arm and back against the other. Her fingers were delicately wrapped around a pencil, which scratched as series of equations and formulas in a precise hand. The notebook spread open on her lap was covered in diagrams and calculations.

On the other side of the coffee table, seated on a chair swiped from the kitchen table, Sydney was in a world of her own. A twelve year old musical prodigy, she sat with her eyes closed as she played. Gil pressed his face into Sara's hair and closed his own eyes, listening as Bach's Cello Concerto's filled the room with a soothing hum. The music sank into his skin, relaxing his muscles as Sara's body warmed his own. He felt Sophie smile as she solved a difficult question, and heard Kaia's soft sigh of content as she turned the page. Serenity radiated from Syd in a complex and intricate tapestry of notes.

He felt the world outside slide away from him as the rain hitting the windows combined with Sydney's ethereal playing, creating an almost palpable barrier of comfort and safety around his family. In that moment he felt clean and purified; as though the lingering stains of death had been brushed away. He felt the baby move under his fingertips, and Sara twitch lightly as she slid into a deeper state of slumber.

In a couple of months they would have another girl; four precious daughters he could not love any more if he tried. Breathing deeply he let his mind close, holding on only to the music and the pure joy of being surrounded by those who meant more to him than anything else in the world. His last thought, before he joined Sara in dreamland, was that rainy days were the best kind; rainy days and family were good for the soul!


	5. That's What Granny's Are For!

Sara entered her apartment on Saturday morning a little after eight thirty. Silence greeted her, causing uneasiness; Saturday mornings were never quiet!

"Granny?" she called out, curious. Alexa Sidle, her grandmother, stayed over with her girls while Sara worked nights. She dropped her bag and shoes on the table and walked through the kitchen to the family area, pausing when she encountered a large sheet hanging from the ceiling. She traced it to the edge and peered around, promptly pressing a hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle. The coffee table had been pushed aside and the center of the room turned into a tent. Sprawled on the floor in sleeping bags were her eleven year old twins, seven year old younger daughter and her grandmother, all fast asleep and tangled up in bits of rope tied in various knots, a collection of animal stuffed toys, sunhats and hiking flasks.

Backing into the kitchen she shook her head and laughed to herself, putting the kettle on for tea and fetching out a knife, chopping board and some fruit and cereal for breakfast. There was a knock at the door and then Grissom walked in, carrying a bag of fresh muffins and orange juice.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, looking around.

"Asleep," she replied, rinsing a bunch of grapes.

"What? At this time?"

"Go and see; they're in the family room." Raising an eyebrow, he went to look. Seeing the three girls and their ageless seventy-five year old grandmother all curled together in their makeshift tent he snorted with laughter and pulled out his phone to snap a handful of photos.

Back in the kitchen, he showed them to Sara, earning a warm smile that made his heart clench. One step at a time, he reminded himself, thinking of the relationship he and Sara were slowly repairing. We are making progress, patience!

"Let me see those photographs Gil," said a light, warm voice behind him. Alexa stood there; a spry, energetic woman full of varied and eclectic talents and a sense of adventure that rivaled even that of the three girls. She tied the belt of her robe over brown and green pajamas and held out a hand as he turned the screen towards her.

"My dear, I can't see that from here. My glasses disappeared in all the fun last night." She held the phone up to her face and laughed heartily; the wide smile on her face a little strange in conjunction with the fierce tiger mask that was painted onto her features.

"You went camping last night then?" asked Sara, passing the older woman a cup of steaming tea. Alexa sipped and hummed with pleasure.

"A safari," she corrected lightly. "They have very vivid imaginations. We learned some basic first aid and survival skills. We then survived a stampede of zebra, a lion attack and an angry elephant herd. We had a picnic and studied the art of shadow puppets."

"All in one night?" Sara was awed.

"No wonder you're all still asleep," remarked Gil.

"That's what Grandma's are for," grinned Alexa. She handed Gil his phone back and reached over the counter for a set of wooden panpipes. "I also gave these to Syd as part of the experience. Considering that child doesn't like wind instruments, it was almost frightening to listen."

"Has she ever played them before?" asked Gil.

"No, and I could have recorded a CD." Sara looked at Gil and shrugged. That was Sydney; she could pick up an instrument and play with no previous experience. After teaching all of her keyboard skills to her daughter, Sara had once taken her to the music department at UC Berkeley where the professors had played classical piano for her, and Sydney had sat down and played it back to them having heard and watched only once. She loved string instruments, and percussion, but wouldn't touch woodwinds and brass. Gil had asked her why years ago, and Sydney had replied that they hurt her, though it seemed to be a psychological issue and not a physical one. She hadn't elaborated, instead studying strings with her gifted intensity, and falling even more for the cello in particular.

It unnerved both of her parents at first, until they adjusted to having an unusual child. Then, aged five and perpetually curious about how things worked, Sophie had begun to experiment. After an incident with falling blocks, and an explanation of gravity, their older twin began to test Isaac Newton's principal, determined to unravel the mysteries of the universe. In kindergarten she argued with teachers who refused to allow her to play with water after the drenching of several of her fellow classmates, following an experiment that involved making dams out of various materials to discover what would hold the water most effectively. More adjustments were required.

Then it was Kaia's turn to shock them. Kaia didn't bother with crawling, or even walking. She simply stood up one day and charged a dozen steps into Sara's legs. Within a week she was running everywhere, and then scaling the furniture without any fear at all. Alexa, who cared for the children during the day while Sara worked, found herself exhausted trying to keep up, despite running in half a dozen or so quarter marathons a year. With the twins moving into first grade at five and a half, she towed eighteen month old Kaia to a local gym for mommy and me classes, or in their case, granny and me class, so she could work off her excessive energy in a safer, padded environment. Within a year it was apparent they had found Kaia's 'thing' too.

The three adults looked up from their thoughts when the girls tumbled into the kitchen, still in their pajamas, with smudged, but recognizable animal face paintings that matched Alexa's.

"Mommy, we went on safari," cried Kaia, holding up a stuffed elephant with a bound leg and an impressively knotted leash. "It was amazing!"

"We bandaged our wounds when the animals attacked," grinned Sophie, holding up a wrapped arm.

"And we learned to tie a makeshift tent," claimed Sydney, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"I saw it," replied Sara, hugging them all.

"I think you guys are very lucky to have a Grandma so willing to go adventuring, don't you?" asked Gil, smiling at them.

The girls looked at Alexa and burst into laughter. Chiming in together, all four of them sang, "That's what Granny's are for!"


	6. Puppy Problems

Gil massaged the back of his neck grumpily as he surveyed the evidence on the layout table in front of him. He had been called in to help day shift with a bug case at twelve-thirty in the afternoon, after a mere two hours of sleep. For the bugs he wouldn't have minded, but the CSI he had been sent out with was so far beyond incompetent that every time the man came into his line of sight or opened his mouth, he found himself clenching his jaw in order to avoid grinding his teeth. His phone beeped and he pulled it out, checking the time. It was eight-fifteen pm and he had a text from his wife.

"Why did the fly never land on the computer?" Concerned, he packed away his evidence and hurried to his office, shutting the door behind him. Sending a joke via text was a code they used when at work that meant call as soon as possible; family problem!

"Because it was afraid of the World Wide Webb," he said as soon as she answered, letting her know he was free to talk. "What's wrong?"

"I'm at the hospital with Kaia. I think she's got a broken ankle, she getting x-rays right now."

"What happened?"

"Hank knocked her over just as we were walking in the door from practice. He was chasing something and he ploughed straight into her legs."

"How is she?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, we've been through a hysterical initial reaction, panic over missing level nine state championships, rage induced hatred of 'Kati's stupid dog' and now she's pretty much just steaming with anger at the whole situation."

Gil sighed; Kaia did not react well to anything that got in the way of her gymnastics passion.

"Hank needs to go to puppy training classes," he said, thinking of their almost fully grown boxer.

"I agree, but in the meantime, can you pick up the rest of the tribe?"

"Sure," he agreed, his sleep deprived brain struggling to remember where his children were at the present moment. "Kati is still at day care?"

"No dear," he could hear the smile in her voice as she read his thoughts. "It's Friday; she had a play date with Alice and Adam James. Maddie took them to the zoo but they'll be back soon. The twins are at school; Syd's in orchestra rehearsal and Sophie is doing lighting and pyrotechnics for the drama production next week. It's a complete dress rehearsal; syncing up the music, lights and everything. They'll be done in fifteen minutes."

"They let a thirteen year old work with pyrotechnics?" he asked.

"Apparently."

"Well, there's hope for the education system yet then." Sara's laughter rang in his ears as he collected his keys and walked out to his car.

…

By the time Sara and Kaia returned it was well past bed time, and the house was quiet. Gil sat in his favorite arm chair, reading from a forensics journal as Hank lay curled in his basket in the kitchen, resigned to obedience class starting next weekend.

The thump of crutches on the floor brought him to the hallway; Sara gave him a tired smile as Kaia leaned against him for a hug. There were dried tears on her face, but her expression was every bit as determined as when she was in the gym, working on a new skill. He scooped her up and carried her upstairs to bed, where they both tucked her in and waited while she fell asleep.

In their own room, Sara kicked off her heals, stripped of her court suit and flopped backwards onto the bed.

"What a day," she muttered, as he joined her, snuggling close and pulling the blankets tightly around them. "This stupid case, honestly; I was on the stand for five hours, and they want me back again tomorrow morning."

"Did you tell Catherine?" he yawned, pressing his face to the back of her neck.

"Yes, she said Days is sending Williams to Grave tonight to cover you because of the bug thing. Then she ordered me home to sleep and gave me an earful about the most politically charged case of the year getting through court untarnished. I'd like to think she was concerned about my lack of sleep, but considering she wanted the case to start with, I doubt it."

"Hmm, sounds about right, but I really don't care at the moment," he murmured, pressing gentle kisses into her hair, "because I really like that you're here right now, and not kneeling next to some poor unfortunate corpse."

"Me too," she sighed, snuggling tighter into his hold.

"So how bad is it?" he asked.

"A broken left talus bone," said Sara.

"Oh, that's not good," he groaned.

"No it's not," she replied grimly. "The x-ray tech was mightily impressed that a dog caused it."

"What now?" he wanted to know.

"Twelve weeks in the air cast; absolutely no weight bearing exercise and then physical therapy after that. The doc said it's a very clean break, and the blood supply hasn't been impacted, which is amazingly fortunate. If she heals well, he said she'd be back to full strength in seven or eight months, but she'll probably have to wear a brace for some time when she's in the gym."

"She's going to go stir crazy," he remarked, with a deep sigh.

"Yep. But, and this was a stroke of luck, the doctor has two kids involved in gymnastics, so we, and by we I mean he and Kaia, had a very long and detailed conversation about what is and isn't allowed. When the swelling goes down she can do conditioning as long as she doesn't aggravate the leg. I think they went through every exercise ever invented, looking for what she can do."

Gil snorted, having no trouble whatsoever picturing their little girl grilling the doctor on what, exactly, she could still work on.

"It was typical Kaia all right, total focus, straight to the point; ok these are the limits, where exactly can I push them to and for how long precisely?"

"Atta girl," he grinned, "she is the most stubborn, determined child I have ever met."

"She is, and she cheered up considerably when the doctor said he'd see her in about six weeks and then she'll probably be able to start working on bars a little, albeit with strict safety measures in place."

The fell quiet for a while, mulling over the day's events and how to help Kaia deal with her limitations while her leg healed.

"I watched the last hour of practice," said Sara, after a while. "She nailed that sheep jump on beam five times in a row without so much as a wobble. And then I saw her working on a double twisting Yurchenko vault with Ben. He told me they want it ready for level ten next year."

"Two twists? What's wrong with the one and a half?"

"Five tenths less in start value at elite level."

"She's nine, elite is looking a little far into the future isn't it?" he asked, half pleadingly, half awed. Just over a year ago at a Nevada state meet Kaia had qualified to level eight with stunning scores. Afterwards, Ben had spoken with Sara and Gil, and then the three adults had sat down with Kaia to discuss her future and what she wanted. Despite the fact that Coach Keyes, owner of the gym, had not placed Kaia in the fast track group he personally coached, Ben believed she was as good as, if not better than, many of those girls.

The four of them talked at length about what would be involved in training for the elite program, and Kaia, without hesitation, pledged her heart and soul to the journey, as long as Ben wanted to take it with her. Kaia was no more of a fan of Coach Keyes, than Coach Keyes was of her. When Sara had transferred Kaia to Keyes Gymnastics Academy after moving to Las Vegas, he had promptly informed her that Kaia possessed no talent, dedication or focus, only raw strength. Relations had barely improved since, but as Ben was the primary coach neither Sara, Gil nor Kaia felt the need to change anything.

Despite that conversation about elite training, Gil still hoped on some level that Kaia would slow down a little. He took the greatest pleasure in watching and supporting her, but was still at times unnerved by the extreme nature of the sport.

Sara laughed softly, and then kissed him lovingly.

"Relax dear," she murmured, "Ben would never put her in danger; he cares far too much about her to allow anything she isn't ready for. He's been her coach for five years now, he knows exactly what she is and isn't capable of."

"I know," he replied, running his fingers through her hair. "I trust him implicitly, you know that! I'm just worried about how Kaia's going to deal with months of recovery; she's so intense about training."

"I can't believe I watched her train such crazy skills without incident and then _the dog_ manages to break her ankle," sighed Sara.

"I'll sign him up for obedience training tomorrow," promised Gil, tracing her ear with a finger as she settled her head against his shoulder.

"Good luck with that," snorted Sara, "I've never met such a naughty dog."

"Mmm," he replied, thinking. "Do you really think Kaia will make elite?"

"Yes, I do," she answered. "I've read as many statistics and national results as I can get my hands on, I've studied other girls skills and compared as best I can. Physically speaking, she's short, compact and very muscular; she's never had a serious gym related injury and aside from this incident, she's incredibly strong and healthy in every way. She wants it, with her whole heart.

"I've often thought that the strongest trait we passed on to the girls is passion, not intelligence. Sure they are all very smart kids, but just like you and I are passionate about science, they each have that passion in some aspect of their lives. Sophie is just like us, a total science nerd, but Sydney's passion manifested itself as musical off-the-charts talent and Kaia is a phenomenal athlete. Maybe there's a gene or trait that we don't know about that carries not specific ability of the parents, but a drive, desire and ability that manifests itself in different ways." She paused for a moment, before continuing.

"I've also spoken in depth with Ben about it, and he believes she has the ability."

"What about Coach Keyes? It's his gym," mused Gil.

"Well, you know how he is," considered Sara. "And he rarely works with Kaia; it's Ben who knows her, and works with her. And we know he cares about her as a child, not just an athlete. I doubt the same could be said for Keyes. He owns the gym, he's the face at competitions, but he works with the girls who are already pre-elite and elite."

"I have found myself wishing that Ben would open his own gym at some point," admitted Gil.

"Me too," agreed Sara. "Are you really that worried about her?" she asked, after a reflective pause.

"No," he sighed. "I'm being an irrational parent, that's all. The scientist in me is cringing." Sara pressed a hand to her lips, trying to smother her giggles. Gil rolled onto his side and directed a mock glare at her.

"I'm sorry," she snorted, "I'm not laughing at you as a parent, just as a scientist." He growled softly, pushing her flat on her back and pinning her down with his own body.

"How dare you… laugh… at… my… scientific… prowess," he demanded, punctuating each word with a progressively more heated kiss.

"I really don't know," she gasped, pulling him back down to her lips. "But I dare Bugman, I really do."

…

…

To be continued in Doggy Disobedience

Please R&R- I'm wading through a mass of final semester work and could use a cheering up.


	7. Doggy Disobedience

Gil glared at his dog as he towed Hank back to the car, opened the trunk and waited while the animal took his time considering jumping up onto his blanket. Several months ago now he had convinced his beautiful wife that their youngest daughter wanted a dog, which considering all three of her elder sisters and her mother had their own pets, was not unreasonable. The fact that he wanted a dog to counteract the four felines living in his home had conveniently slipped his mind when making his case on behalf of Kati, as had the fact that she was only eleven months old at the time. He vividly remembered the look on Sara's face during that discussion. Now though, he was seriously regretting his efforts to introduce man's best friend into his life.

Hank parked his behind on the ground and refused to budge; sweating and muttering curses, Grissom hauled the large dog into his arms and then into the back of the car. As he got behind the wheel, he tried to repress memories of the trainer's disapproving frown and the amusement of the other human attendees at their tenth outing to weekly puppy obedience class. Driving home, he took deep breaths to calm down and relax.

Who would have thought one dog could cause so much drama, he mused, thinking back to the day he had taken Kati to the pound to look at rescue dogs. He supposed he should have known that this particular animal would be trouble when his daughter had pointed to a puppy not long out of the litter that the keeper informed him was named Hank. No amount of trying would get him to answer to another name and eventually he had given up.

He turned up the heater and took back roads to avoid the rush of traffic that had swarmed the city with only two weeks left before Christmas. In the back, Hank began to howl. Continuously. Even after they arrived home and Gil freed him into the yard, the dog kept up an eerie wolf impression.

"How did it go?" asked Sara sleepily as he slipped into bed next to her. He glanced at the clock; ten am. Despite the fact that shift had ended only two hours ago, he was exhausted.

"Don't ask," he grumbled, nuzzling the back of her neck.

"Ok," she mumbled agreeably, closing her eyes again and falling right back to sleep. Movement at the bottom of the bed made him look down. Ghost, Sara's cat, stood, stretched languidly, and sauntered up the length of his leg, regarding him sternly. She hopped over him and curled herself into Sara's chest, purring soothingly. Unconsciously, Sara reached out to stroke her. Gil glared at the cat, not willing to admit the ease of being a cat owner in comparison to the difficulty of controlling Hank.

…

Gil woke abruptly at five pm and rolled over to look at his clock. He reached out for Sara, but found the bed empty beside him. Frowning, he crawled out and stumbled into the shower, letting the hot water wake him before he pulled on jeans and a sweater and headed downstairs. Sara and Kati were in the kitchen preparing vegetarian lasagna and salad.

"Hey, did you sleep well?" asked Sara, putting her used tools in the dishwasher.

"Yes, you?"

"Great. Do you want to get the girls, or shall I go?"

"Let's both go," he suggested, plucking Kati out of her playpen and holding her up in the air like a plane. "You need to stop growing," he informed the toddler, kissing her forehead as he shifted her to his hip. Kati grinned and wiggled in his grip.

"I hear that," laughed Sara, "I can't believe she's almost eighteen months." She rinsed her hands, dried them and tossed the towel onto the table. "Let's go," she continued, grabbing her keys, coat and boots from the laundry room.

"Wait just one moment," called Gil, catching her arm and pulling her flush against him. He kissed her soundly, one arm around her waist as Kati squealed in his other. "Good afternoon," he grinned, pleased with himself.

"Mmm," replied Sara, leaning back in for another kiss. "A very good afternoon."

Four children necessitated a larger car than they normally drove, and when Sara's grandmother Alexa had passed away, they had kept, rather than sold, her Chevy Tahoe as a family vehicle. While Sara climbed in behind the wheel, started the engine and got the heater going to ward off the cold December air, Gil expertly snapped Kati into her car seat and then jumped into the passenger seat, shivering.

They chatted softly as they drove to the high school, Kati babbling away behind them, waving a stuffed centipede in one hand and a dragonfly in the other. They pulled up at the school just as Sophie walked out of the wing where the afterschool advanced science program met. She waved to a friend and ran over to the car, jumping in and thrusting a paper at her father.

"Man it's cold outside today," she gasped, rubbing her hands together.

"Did you have a good day honey?" asked Sara, twisting in her seat to look behind her.

"It was great, I set the curve in chemistry again and Syd and I are doing a presentation together in French next week. We can pick whatever topic we like, as long as we talk for fifteen minutes."

"Where is Sydney?" asked Gil, looking up from the paper. "This is excellent," he congratulated her.

"Thanks, she'll be out of the orchestra room in three seconds," she said as she leant over her father's shoulder to point out something on the page. "Look, right here! See what Miss Dayton wrote?" Sara smiled and looked back over to the school; exactly three seconds later Sydney came running out of the building, clutching her coat around her slender frame just as Sophie had predicted. It never failed to amaze Sara how the twins always knew what the other was up to. Shivering and dancing from foot to foot, Sydney opened the trunk and stowed her cello before hopping in the back seat with her sisters.

Sophie kept chattering as Sara pulled back out onto the street, Sydney settled back in her seat, listening. Always the quieter one, Sydney was usually happy to let her twin do the talking. When Sophie paused for breath, Gil turned to Sydney and asked about her day.

"Orchestra was ok," she shrugged. "Mr. Harold had me work with the violas; he said they're falling four beats behind during the chorus of our show opener, but he's wrong. It's six and a half."

"Did you tell him?" asked Gil.

"No, I just showed them where they were messing up and helped them fix it."

"And what did Mr. Harold do?" asked Sara.

"He worked with Peter on the double bass," shrugged Sydney. "It was pointless though, Peter is too small for the bass; his hands aren't big enough to control the strings, and the school doesn't have a half size for him to use. Mr. Harold is setting him up to fail. Peter doesn't even like the bass; he's a violinist."

"You should tell someone," said Sophie.

"Who? I'm two years younger than even the freshmen; no one is going to listen to me."

"Syddie, you were a better musician when we were five than Mr. Harold will ever be in his lifetime," Sophie sighed.

"I try not to advertise that fact, it just makes things awkward." Sara flashed a quick glance at Gil as she stopped at a red light; he looked back with an identical frown on his face. They had been through this before, and it was never fun. Before there was a chance to take the discussion any further they arrived at the gym.

"We're early," said Sydney, clearly wanting an end to the conversation. "Let's go and watch." She hopped out of the car and headed into the gym, the others trailing after her. From the viewing gallery they could see Kaia working on a single bar over the foam pit, Ben spotting her as she practiced. She had two weeks left in the air cast, but the bone specialist was satisfied that her level of healing was sufficient to allow limited bar work.

As they watched, she pulled herself up into a handstand, swung around in a full circle back to the handstand and completed a full turn on top of the bar before swinging back down again. This time she turned on top of the bar again, paused and reversed her direction, swinging backwards. As she neared the end of the swing she let go, rolled backwards with the momentum, her legs in a v shaped split and caught the bar again, swinging back up into the handstand and then down to hang from the bar and listen to Ben's feedback. He gestured with his hands for a moment, and then nodded. In the viewing gallery the group watched Kaia repeat her skills three more times, before stopping.

Still banned from putting any weight on her broken foot, she swung down and shuffled along the bar; hanging until she reached the end and Ben could reach out and lift her off without falling in the foam pit. He carried her over to the edge of the gym, where her crutches were leaning in the corner by the locker room. As they walked over to her, Sara heard Ben and Kaia going through their post workout review and plan for the next day. Studying her child, she smiled; Kaia was glowing with joy at her accomplishments, looking much more like her pre-break self. Though she had not complained, beyond berating the dog on occasion, and had stubbornly worked with her usual determination, within her limitations, her unspoken frustration had at times been all too evident. Today she was flush with excitement, and grinning as she talked. She unfastened her grips and put them on the bench next to her, hauling off the neoprene wrist bands that went underneath, and then ripping away the tape below that as Ben handed her a sheet of paper from his pocket and passed her a bag from the shelf where the girls kept their grip bags during workouts.

"Hey," she smiled, noticing her family for the first time. "Did you see? I finally got some skills linked together again."

"We saw," nodded Sophie, "It was awesome."

"See you tomorrow Magnet," said Ben, waving to the others and then trotting back across the room to a small group of girls clustered around one end of the tumble track. Kaia tucked her grips carefully into their bag as she chattered away excitedly, informing her parents and sisters about her successful afternoon. She was still talking a mile a minute when they arrived home and trooped into the kitchen. They were brought to an abrupt halt when Sara, the leader of the group, let out an incensed shriek.

"That damn animal," she roared, grabbing the tea towel and swatting Hank away from the shattered remains of the glass baking dish and the smears of tomato sauce and shards of dried pasta decorating the floor. Hank barked as she shooed him out of the backdoor and into the garden, berating him angrily. Gil plonked Kati back into her playpen with an assortment of stuffed bugs and fetched a broom. Sara sent the older three to get cleaned up and then called for pizza, still muttering under her breath and shooting the occasional glare at her husband. Gil said nothing for the moment, fully aware that after two and a half months of weekly training sessions, it appeared to be money ill spent on the seemingly un-trainable hound. _I just don't understand_, he thought as he used a cloth to wipe red splatters off the cabinets. _I've had dogs before and never had a problem training them myself. What is it about Hank?_

By the time the pizza arrived Sara had calmed and Gil had made a salad, as well as coffee for the adults and juice for the children, while Kaia showered and the twins started their homework. They reassembled at the table, digging in to the feast. Having finished his meal outside and taken care of business, Hank was let back inside out of the cold, though he was banished to the laundry room while they ate.

"I spoke to a woman in class today," Gil mentioned carefully. "She's a vet, and she recommended that we have Hank neutered; she said it often calms them down, which might make him more responsive to training."

"How soon can you book him in?" asked Sara, shouting a warning to the dog as he began to scratch at the door.

"Maybe he wants to keep his testicles," suggested Sophie. "Have you asked him how he feels about it?"

"If chopping them off will make him a friendlier family pet then I don't much care for his opinion," said Sara dryly.

"Neither do I," said Kaia darkly, shooting a glare at the laundry room door as she helped herself to salad.

"Are you seriously still holding a grudge against him?" asked Sophie, incredulous. Kaia gaped at her in outrage.

"Are you serious?" she yelped.

"I would be," agreed Sydney, sipping her cranberry juice. "If he had broken my arm and I couldn't play I would be just as mad."

"It's been weeks though," said Sophie. "And Kaia is allowed to work on bars." Kaia choked on a lettuce leaf, gulping a mouthful from her glass.

"Do you have any idea how far that _animal_ has set me back?" she spluttered. "I was this close," she held up her thumb and index finger an inch apart, "from getting the double twisting Yurchenko, and the Arabian half twist on beam. It will be months before my leg is strong enough to vault like that again, and weeks of physical therapy before I can land saltos on beam or even a decent dismount from bars, and that's not even mentioning the fact that I'll be wearing a brace for the foreseeable future after this dratted cast comes off. It will be at least a year before I'm back where I was before that creature's… _exuberance… _broke my bone. So _excuse me_ if I'm _still _annoyed with him. In fact, give me a knife and I'll chop his gems off myself," she threatened, her rant drawing to a close as she brandished her fork in emphasis, her breathing elevated in anger.

Sophie swallowed, nodded acquiescence, and returned to her pizza. Sara glanced at Gil, trying very hard not to smile. Her husband was frantically chewing his mouthful, struggling with the same effort as he focused intently on his plate. When he was able to speak, he cleared his throat and spoke softly.

"I'll book him in for the first available slot when the vet opens tomorrow morning."

"Good," sniffed Kaia.

Quiet descended as they all resumed eating, punctuated only by the sounds of Kati babbling away in her highchair. Until an explosion of sound reverberated through the laundry room door, followed by a high pitched scream of fury and a volley of angry barks.

Syd got there first, recognizing the sound of Isis and wrenching the door open, scooping up her enraged Siamese cat before leaping out of the way as Hank thundered towards her. The dog turned and lunged, howling as he slammed into Sydney's chest and legs. Girl, cat and dog flew backwards into the wall with a thud and a sickening crack as the collision caused a framed portrait to fall and smash on the counter top; Sydney curled forward as glass rained down around her, Isis protectively caught between her torso and legs. Hank staggered away from the wall, skidding on the kitchen floor as the frame bounced on its corner, toppling forward across the counter. It hit the fish tank, pushing it clear off the surface. The five gallon plastic container dropped like a stone and bounced. Water sprayed over the sides as the tank settled, and promptly split right down the middle, cleaving neatly in two and sending a wave of water rushing out over the wooden flooring.

"Mocha," cried Sara, rushing forward to save her goldfish. Sophie yanked open a cupboard and grabbed a Tupperware, thrusting it into the sink and turning the tap on as Gil wrestled the dog outside once more, slamming the door behind him.

"Don't move Syd," he warned, brushing aside chunks of glass as he made his way over to her, slithering on the wet floor. Her response was muffled and unintelligible as he reached her and began to pick shards out of her hair and off her clothes. Sophie gathered an armload of towels from the laundry room and tried to stem the spread of the water while Sara, her fish temporarily secure, swept the glass into a watery pile.

…

Three hours later it was quarter past nine and dinner was finally finished, the kitchen cleaned, homework was done, and Kati and Kaia were asleep. Sara finished setting up the new tank she and the twins had rushed over to the pet store for, while Gil ran several loads of laundry through the washer and dryer and made school lunches for the next day.

In the music room Sydney played a series of her own cello concertos while Sophie lay on the floor next to her, relaxing. Her cat, Duck, an easygoing mackerel tabby, sprawled on her chest, paws in the air, purring madly as Sophie tickled her belly. Isis was draped over Sydney's foot, as per usual when the girl was playing the cello. Scratches on Syd's arms and the back of her neck had been cleaned and coated with anti-septic while Sophie ranted about the dog; the most outspoken and confident of the twins, she was also fiercely protective of Sydney, and did not take kindly to seeing her sister injured. No stitches were needed and Syd shrugged it off, put on dry clothes and gently toweled off her soggy cat. Sophie was still steaming though, and an upset Sophie upset Sydney, so Sara had sent them to the music room with a wink at Syd; listening to her twin play always relaxed Sophie.

Gil gave the counter a final wipe, tossed the cloth onto the draining board and walked over to join Sara, who was watching Mocha get acquainted with her new home.

"She ok?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

"Yes," was the grumpy reply. Years ago, when they were both living in San Francisco, Sara had told him during their first date, an impromptu discussion in a café, that she had never had a pet. Two nights later he knocked on her door before dinner and presented her with a goldfish in a bowl, telling her it was a tragedy she had never had a pet, and that she shouldn't be alone in the apartment her roommate had recently vacated. Sara's delight at the gift was forever etched in his memory. She had promptly named the bright orange fish Coffee in honour of their first date, and had kept her in pride of place on the kitchen counter. In the fourteen years since, Coffee had been succeeded by Tea, Cappuccino and, six months ago, Mocha; all of whom were treasured gifts from Gil.

He pressed a soft kiss to her temple and rested his chin on her shoulder, watching the fish with her for a few moments, before they moved to the music room. Sophie's eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling rhythmically as she practiced meditation breathing, utterly calm and relaxed. Gil sank onto a beanbag and Sara sat down at the piano bench; the piece Sydney was playing was one of her oldest compositions and Gil's favorite. Closing her eyes Sara inhaled deeply and concentrated on the accompanying piano piece. After a few moments, Sophie fetched her guitar and joined in, leaning back against her father's legs as she played.

Gil watched, transfixed by the beauty of his family around him and their passion for the music. Sydney was the center piece, her heart and soul bared though the pure sound; her joy washed over them all, and inspired the fire in the others. It was past bed time before Gil had the heart to stop them; tucking the twins into bed, both parents were happy to see Sophie fully relaxed and asleep moments after her head hit the pillow. Gil ran a hand over her head and kissed her brow as Sara turned out the light; how did he get so lucky he wondered following his wife through the bathroom into Sydney's room. Their little musician was curled on her side, Isis tucked under her arm. Nearly asleep, Syd was humming softly and tapping a beat with gentle fingers, eyes dreamy and far away.

Downstairs in the kitchen Gil pulled Sara into an embrace.

"I love you," he said warmly, "I don't tell you enough." Sara grinned at him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. They were pressed against the wall, wrapped around each other and lost in the moment when the doorbell rang. Sara hissed when he pulled away, cursing. They tugged their clothes straight and Sara went to let in Jamie, a college student working on her master's in English literature who stayed with the girls at night.

Walking out to their cars Gil reached for her again, aching for the taste of her lips on his.

"Mmm," she sighed in pleasure. "Gil, stop! We have to go to work," she continued, regretfully. He groaned and gave her one last kiss; time to step back into their other universe, the one where their relationship was still tumultuous and their family was hidden.

"I have to stop by the store and get some cat food because Hank ripped open the bag and ate most of it last night," said Sara, "so you'll get there with plenty of time before I arrive. Do you want me to grab you a coffee from Jessa's stand?"

"Please," he replied, tucking her hair back behind her ear. "See you at work." Sara followed him halfway into the city, and then turned off in the path she normally drove so they didn't arrive from the same direction and arouse suspicion; some days she wondered how their colleagues hadn't figured out that she no longer lived in the Sun Rise apartment complex and Gil had moved out of his town house. Her home she could understand, no one but Gil had visited her there; she had always gone to the guy's homes if they got together for a beer or to talk shop. Catherine on the other hand, had regularly turned up at Gil's home after shift to consume his cooking and toast a case with the odd Screwdriver or two. Sara often silently thanked Lindsey and her teenage hijinks for distracting the woman. Thinking of Catherine she sighed, they seemed to be butting heads more often than not of late. She hoped they wouldn't be working together that evening.

…

Gil surveyed the case slips with a sigh and made his way to the break room. He, Sara and Catherine would be attending a scene in Henderson with three bodies and some suspicious neighbors. The boys were going on a field trip north of Ely to a dozen bodies and what promised to be at least a couple of days. Catherine wouldn't go because of Lindsey, and he and Sara certainly weren't going unless they absolutely had too. He saw Sara grimace slightly and caught her eye, giving her a slight nod of apology; she winked and grabbed the keys.

"I'm driving," she declared, walking out before Catherine could object.

"Shotgun," tried the blonde hopefully.

"Not a chance," snorted Grissom, "supervisor's privilege."

…

Hours later Gil left in a hurry to get home for the school run; Sara was stuck in the middle of chasing a lead in a time zone halfway around the world. With the kids sorted, he threw together a breakfast of chopped fruit and cereal, and made tea pouring out two mugs just as the front door opened.

Frazzled and wound as tight as a spring under pressure, Sara took a long sip from her mug, humming with pleasure as Gil slipped her coat off and began to massage her neck and shoulders.

"Ohhh, don't stop," she murmured, groaning deeply.

"Can you believe Catherine?" he asked, laughing. Sara made an undignified sound in response. A new detective had met them at scene, recently transferred from San Diego. He and Catherine were apparently instantly attracted to each other, and had spent the entire night reveling in an atmosphere of sexual tension.

His hands sliding down her sides, Gil used his thumbs to ease the muscles either side of her spine. Leaning forward he nuzzled her neck, dropping kisses on the creamy bare skin exposed by her V-neck sweater.

"Mmmm," she mumbled, turning in his arms and kissing his lips slowly and thoroughly. "Will breakfast keep?" she asked, fiddling with his shirt buttons.

"Definitely," he replied, his fingers creeping under the soft fabric covering her torso.

…

Sara stretched sleepily as she opened her eyes and rolled to face Gil, her gaze meeting his as he put down a journal.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked, curling into his side.

"About twenty minutes," he said, sliding down next to her and wrapping his arms around her. "We have about half an hour before we need to get up."

"I dreamt we were stuck at that scene with Catherine and Detective Milligan."

"How pleasant," he snorted.

"I'd rather have dreamt we were stuck there on our own," she muttered, resting her head on his shoulder. "What are you reading?" He handed her a sheaf of papers from inside the journal.

"I may have found a solution to Sydney's problem. I looked these up before you arrived for shift last night." Sara scanned the pages of information about the Las Vegas Orchestra and the Las Vegas Youth Ensemble.

"I though Syd might like to check them out. Especially the Orchestra; how often does she get to play with people anywhere near her level?"

"Not often," mused Sara. "This is brilliant Gil."

"It's really bothering me how resigned she sounded last night after school."

"Me too; I still think we need to do something about Mr. Harold though. He shouldn't be forcing that boy to play an instrument that he doesn't like and is too big for him. I don't like that he's using Sydney as a secondary teacher either; that's going to make it even harder for her to integrate with the other students."

"I agree, let's sit down with her after dinner and talk about what she wants to do. I think we need to speak to the principal also."

"Definitely," agreed Sara, flipping through the pages again. They scanned the information together, musing over points they thought Sydney would enjoy.

"Sara," said Gil suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"I've been thinking about something."

"Nothing unusual there dear," she grinned, looking up at him mischievously.

"Very funny! I was thinking about something serious."

"I'm listening."

"If Kaia," he paused and corrected himself, "no, when Kaia makes elite level, it's going to make keeping our secret much harder. The competitions are televised, and if she makes the national team she could be on the news. Someone is going to notice."

"I know." He sat up and turned to look at her.

"You've already thought about this?"

"A couple of years ago," she replied calmly. He gaped at her for a moment, before sitting back against his pillow.

"You're not worried," he stated, still staring at her. Sara put the papers aside and turned to face him, pulling her legs up and crossing them, resting her hands lightly on her knees.

"Honey, you need to relax a little," she soothed. "I figure we have at least another couple of years before we get there. You heard Kaia last night; it will take her a year to completely get back into the form she was in before the injury, and she's still level nine. She has a host of goals for level ten; States, Regionals and Junior Olympic Nationals. Besides, she's nine and you have to eleven before you can qualify for junior elite. A lot can alter in two years; we might find ourselves changing career paths or something. We have four daughters, that leaves an awful lot of variables don't you think."

"God I love you," he said. "You are my sanity and my rock. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm sure you would manage," she said, keeping a straight face. "I have total faith that you'd be able to keep the chaos from overwhelming you completely, at least." They stared at each other for a moment, before bursting into laughter. Gil pulled her forward into his arms and they kissed, long and sweet, limbs and hearts a tangle of love.


	8. Dinner, the Stars and a Name

This came to me during a run of insomnia; if you haven't ready chapter 30 of Ethereal Theory it may raise a few questions. If you have, it makes perfect sense. Happy reading.

Got Tea?

...

...

_September 26th 1996, 5:53pm_

"How far exactly do you want to walk Gil?" grumbled Sara as she trudged along the path. "My back is killing me here."

"Just around the next corner," he promised, turning to give her a big smile. Unable to help herself she grinned back at him and kept moving, wondering exactly where her sanity had vanished to. She made it around the bend in the trail and stopped, hands on her hips as she surveyed Grissom setting out a picnic blanket in the clearing and then unloading the food from his backpack.

"Forgive me yet?" he asked, taking her hands and lowering her to the ground.

"Maybe," she countered, kicking off her shoes with a grateful sigh and crossing her legs in front of her. Calm surrounded them; birds chattered in the trees, small animals rustled in the forest undergrowth and across from them the sun was beginning its slow journey of sinking across the horizon. For so late in the summer, it was unseasonably warm and very pleasant out, even as the day wore on.

They could see the ocean from where they sat, glimmering in the gentle late afternoon light as the scent of salt and pine bathed the air around them in a soft natural perfume. Sara took a bite of pasta salad and hummed in pleasure. Grissom smiled and offered her pita bread and a bottle of water.

"So why did you want to come out here tonight?" she asked. "You do realize we're at least a couple of miles from civilization and I'm thirty-seven weeks right?"

"There's a meteor shower later; we always used to go stargazing and I just thought it would be a nice thing to do while we had the chance. Before little one gets here," he shrugged, resting a hand on her stomach and feeling the baby kick.

He had arrived in San Francisco four days ago, having taken a three month sabbatical from his job in Las Vegas, telling his boss he was teaching a course in entomology at UC Berkeley. The fact that it was only a three day event had conveniently not been mentioned.

"Ok," said Sara, looking back out over the ocean. "That does sound nice." She watched a pod of dolphins break the surface and soar over the waves for a moment before vanishing back into the water. Seconds later they were soaring again, and then again and again.

"Dinner with entertainment," smiled Grissom.

"They're so graceful and strong," marveled Sara, so absorbed in the dolphins movements that her dinner lay in her lap, forgotten. Her hand went to her belly as her back cramped and the baby kicked again. "This one too," she sighed looking down. "She reminds me of the ocean; she can be calm and serene for hours, and then a storm sweeps through and she kicks me like waves batter the coast at high tide. I think my ribs are going to be permanently bruised."

"Have you had any more thoughts about a name?" he asked, one hand rubbing her back soothingly.

"No," she sighed. "You?"

"Nothing."

"Did you bring the book?" she asked. He shook his head apologetically.

"No, I left it in the kitchen. Sorry."

They lapsed into companionable silence, finishing their dinner and watching as the sun sank lower in the sky, turning the few clouds magnificent shades of pink, orange, yellow and red. When the last rays faded into the ocean Gil lay back on the blanket and helped Sara down beside him, cushioning her head with his chest and folding his jacket as a pillow under her back. They talked softly as dark fell, catching up on the antics of their four-year-old twins, and their lives in general.

Gradually the stars appeared, winking into view like far away beacons used by the sailors of old to navigate the shores before modern technology came along. They recounted myths and tales of the constellations they knew, waiting for the show. When it came, it was spectacular; nature reminding all of her awesome power and vast reach.

They lay in silence, watching in awe as the sky came to life; meteors blazing their way between the stars like natural fireworks lighting up the world on a holiday.

…

_September 27th 1996, 3:34am_

Sara woke with a gasp and rolled onto her side. Her back was on fire, the pain radiating through her body in hot, angry waves. Opening her eyes she realized they had fallen asleep under the stars. She curled into a ball and clenched her teeth as the pain intensified; feeling a trickle of wetness in her underwear she let out a groan and lashed out behind her with her hand, slapping Grissom out of slumber.

"Wake up," she hissed at him.

"What's going on?" he mumbled blearily.

"I said wake up," she nearly snarled, gasping for breath. "I'm in labor and we're in the middle of a forest you crazy lunatic."

"What?" he was awake and upright in seconds, his mind racing. "Sara, are you sure?"

"Shut up," she ordered, fingers digging into his arm. He waited until she relaxed and then feverishly began to gather the remains of their dinner.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"Packing, we obviously need to head back," he began, but she cut him off.

"We are not going anywhere," she ground out, breathing deeply as the pain returned, stronger and faster this time.

"Sara," he tried, aiming for what he hoped was a reasonable tone.

"Don't say another word," she warned. "This was your stupid idea, and now you can deliver her." She struggled with trying to unfasten her pants.

"But I… we… a hospital…"

"Be quiet," she cried, "I'm trying to think." He nodded, and helped her peel away the clothing. His mind racing, he wondered briefly if there was any chance of them getting out of there, but quashed the thought when he saw the pain etched on her face in the broad light of the moon. Switching gears, he tried to remember what exactly he had brought along in the backpack.

…

_4:27am_

Afterwards he would remember everything with his usual attention to detail, but as he lifted the baby onto Sara's chest, heard her tearful, choking laughter and saw the tears of joy running down her face everything else faded around him. The baby squealed and fussed as he rubbed her skin clean and dry with napkins, cleared her airways and cocooned her carefully in Sara's soft cotton sweater.

Too awed for words, they both stared at the little girl as Sara unbuttoned her shirt and pressed her child to her chest. Gil gently helped her to sit up, draped his jacket around her shoulders and then slid behind her, supporting her as she leaned back against him.

They stayed like that as dawn approached and the stars disappeared into a sky of bleached, faded colors resembling a lesser version of the previous evening's sunset. The ocean was still a dark gray-blue as the baby began to nurse for the first time, and Sara closed her eyes, exhausted. Grissom, filled with adrenalin and elation, watched as the water slowly changed color with the approach of the sun, his mind awhirl with thoughts.

"Let's call her Kaia," he said softly. "In Hawaiian it means 'the sea' which I think is quite fitting. In ancient Greece, Gaia was the goddess of the earth. It also means willow, and there's a willow right behind us."

"I like it," she replied, staring down at their newborn. "It's perfect."

"What about a middle name? Are we still in agreement?"

"Yes, after your grandmother." Sara stroked the baby's cheek as she yawned and curled her fingers into a tiny fist. "Kaia Rebekah."


	9. Handling Hank

Part Three of the Horrible Hank trilogy. Follows Puppy Problems and Doggy Disobedience.

Handling Hank. In which Gil contemplates parenthood, Kaia continues to recover and Kati is just Kati.

...

...

Grissom sat in the viewing gallery, watching as Kaia worked through the last hour or so of practice. Having slept well and then accomplished everything he wanted to with his night off, he found himself with plenty of time before Kaia needed picking up from the gym. Sitting quietly at the end of the row he watched with his usual scientific intensity as Kaia stood on the balance beam and extended one leg straight out in front of her, keeping it in that position as she turned a slow full circle, concentrating on keeping her posture and not wobbling. She completed the turn with a slight quiver and a scowl, and listened to her coach for a moment before repeating the skill several more times, not satisfied until not only was it perfect, but also perfect several times in a row.

The ankle of the leg raised in the air was encased in an intricate chalk covered black fabric brace that for the moment prevented her from achieving a full toe point, and the added balance that came with it. Two months ago the bone specialist had removed the bulkier air cast and replaced it with the brace and physical therapy three times a week. More recently, he had allowed Kaia to start vaulting and landing dismounts from the uneven bars, although both were into the foam filled pit and not onto the mats. Dance moves on the beam and floor had been added a couple of weeks ago with therapy progression, but tumbling was still out. Grissom knew Kaia was chafing to get back to full strength and her increasing annoyance at being held back after what was now more than five full months since breaking her ankle was manifesting itself in an even more intense battle to achieve perfection.

He saw her smile as she finished her fifth perfect turn in a row; she and Ben, her coach, exchanged a few words interspersed with gestures and motions, and then the pair moved to vault along with two other girls working with Ben today. Ben stood next to the spring board, adjusting it to the right distance for each of them, and they took it in turns to sprint down the runway, perform a round off onto the springboard and twist in the air so their hands hit the vaulting table, their bodies arched backwards before catapulting themselves into the air. They started off with simple moves several times a piece to warm up. Watching Kaia roll backwards in the air Grissom could see the frustration leave her as she thrust herself airborne over and over again.

He had spent many hours ruminating over which of the four events he found most disconcerting and liable to cause serious injury. There were the ridiculously complex tumbling passes on floor that had to be timed to the tiniest of degrees to avoid a wipeout. Then there was the balance beam; if there was a place where anything could happen in a millisecond, it was on beam. The concentration it took to not only not fall off, but to perform all the skills and then try and link them together gave him the chills. Kaia claimed to love all four events equally, though if she was really pressed to pick just one, she chose beam; Grissom could not for the life of him figure out why. The thought of walking along a four inch plank just over four feet above the ground made his knees tremble.

The bars, he thought, were the second most terrifying apparatus. One missed handstand, one mistimed swing or release move and a broken neck could end everything. He had once looked into the history available on gymnastics injuries and after ten minutes or so surfing the internet had promptly stopped and promised himself he would never look again. The one comfort he had was that coaches were permitted to stand under the bars and spot the girls; catching or breaking falls if need be. He knew that Kaia, and indeed himself and Sara, trusted Ben implicitly.

On the vault though, there was no one to stop it if something went wrong. It was over in seconds, the coaches were unable to step in during a competition setting, and the potential for something to go cataclysmically wrong didn't bear thinking about. As he watched, Ben explained something to all three of the girls, and sent them sprinting back to the start of the runway. Whoever got to the start point first went first, and Kaia's natural competitiveness took over even in a practice setting. She reached the chalk bowl a couple of seconds before the other two; a sight that made Grissom smile despite his worries.

At just four feet three inches, Kaia was at least half a foot shorter than her classmates, but she outran them easily. He recognized them vaguely as the daughter and niece of a local councilor; both twelve, they were ranked level sevens, but were much less intense than Kaia, seeming to enjoy the team atmosphere and social aspect of the gym in equal measures with the training and work.

Grissom had lost count of the times he had wished Kaia could mix a little more with the social side of life. She was so determined to do better every time, whether it was an entire routine, a single skill or a conditioning exercise, that she simultaneously awed him and terrified him. But if her dedication floored him, it had nothing on her reasoning and thought processes. He knew she liked to win, Kaia was a born competitor, but every time he saw her in the gym he was reminded of a conversation the two of them had had a couple of years previously.

Sara tried very hard to make sure she never missed a meet, but she and the twins had been stricken with the flu, so Grissom had accompanied Kaia, just a few weeks past her seventh birthday, and the team, to the competition. She had walked away with three gold's, a silver and two bronze medals. After the drive back to Vegas, Grissom had taken her out for dinner as a treat. While they ate, he had asked her how she felt about winning. She had swallowed her mouthful and smiled at him.

"It feels great daddy, but it would still feel the same if I didn't win anything."

"Why's that?"

"Because winning a medal isn't everything. It's not why I do gymnastics," she shrugged, slurping her milkshake. "I worked as hard as I could every day in the gym, and today I did the best I possibly could for the judges. That's what feels really great. If I do that, then I win anyway. It doesn't matter if they give me a color or a number for it."

To this very day he was still stunned that a seven year old had given him that speech. He watched her now as she started adding twists to her vault; she would hit the table, fly into the air, turn one and a half times and vanish amongst the foam squares. She scrambled out and received a high five from Ben, as well as a nod and a suggestion. She grinned and ran back to the start, waiting for her next go. She stood at the chalk bowl, adjusting the straps of her wrist braces and Gil couldn't help but grin at the way she reminded him strongly of Sara. With her dark brown ponytail and her mother's eyes, she fizzled with the same curious and excited energy that had attracted him to his wife the first time they met.

This time when she lined up, took a long step backwards and then launched into a run, he felt something different and grabbed the rail in front of him. Kaia hit the table perfectly, just as she had been doing and soared into the air; arms crossed over her chest, legs squeezed together as straight as possible she spun twice in the air. He let out a groan as she hit the foam blocks. Had she been landing on mats she would have hit the ground sitting; as it was she vanished into the pit bottom first, having rotated too slowly and landed short. Leaning forward he buried his face in his hands; the double twist was the new vault she had been training before the accident. It added more difficulty and a higher start value to her routine, and as an added bonus severed many of his remaining frayed nerves.

Momentarily unable to keep watching, he looked down at Kati snoozing on the blanket he had wrapped her in after she fell asleep in the car on the way over to the gym. Clutched in her fist was a plush spider; its legs splayed across her face. For the moment she was peaceful and rather angelic, as the mothers crowded in the gallery with him kept murmuring to each other behind him. Grissom reached down and shifted the spider legs away from her mouth before she could start drooling on them; the last time she had woken to a soggy spider there had been hysterics.

At almost twenty-one months Kati was a handful, challenging both Gil and Sara on a daily basis as she caused more mayhem than her three sister's ever had combined. She was still tiny, roughly the size of a twelve to fourteen month old, but slowly catching up with her peers. Despite this, she could walk far too well for Gil's liking, and was getting the hang of running as well. Underneath a pronounced lisp she was mastering the art of talking faster than any of her siblings. She had a rich vocabulary of words, could ask endless why questions and was clearly able to express when she wanted something, as well as her seemingly abundant displeasure with dinner, bath time and sharing. She also had a habit of hiding things, like his shoes and car keys, or Kaia's leotards and the twin's school supplies.

Then there were the bugs; he played countless hours of name that bug to keep her occupied and out of trouble. Once she figured out that the real ones were kept in the basement, he had been forced to put a lock on the door after having once caught her crawling up a potted plant to try and get the door open. Now she begged on a daily basis to go down there and play.

She yawned and waved the hand holding her spider in her sleep, causing the mothers behind him let out a collective sigh of longing. Smirking to himself he shook his head slightly and looked back out over the gym. Twenty years ago had someone asked him if he intended to become a father he would have stared as if they'd grown a second head, even fourteen years ago he wouldn't have entertained the thought, not until the instant a very panicked Sara had tearfully informed him, her voice shaking with fear, that they were about to be responsible for another human being.

To say he'd be shocked would be an understatement, but, in what he later thought was a strange but amusing role reversal, he had spent the next several hours convincing Sara that everything would be ok. Oddly he had remained the calm one; when the ultrasound technician had shown them two heart beats he had marveled at the screen while his other half started to hyperventilate. Sara, mid panic, had sat up, demanding to know if the technician was messing with her head, and promptly fainted, pitching sideways off the table and whacking her head, earning a night under hospital observation. He had never let her forget it either.

Now, four beautiful and very different daughters later, he could not imagine his life without them. His mother had called him seventeen kinds of stupid for getting a young woman he wasn't married to pregnant, but had quickly been charmed by Sara before falling head over heels in love with her grandbabies. He had often pondered what it was that had caused his abrupt acceptance, happiness even, at impending fatherhood, but had never come up with a concrete answer.

Thousands of hours of scientific education had given him the ability to rationally analyze and interpret almost any situation. And then came the first moment he held Sophie, and minutes later Sydney, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. He had known he loved Sara with all his heart, what he hadn't known was that each time he became a father that love grew exponentially. That phenomenon had forced him to see that not everything in life was rational, empirical or quantifiable, and for the first time ever, he found himself ok with that.

He looked down again as Kati began to fuss slightly. He picked her up and draped her against his chest, head on his shoulder, rubbing her back soothingly as she continued to dream. He heard several sighs of yearning behind him, but didn't even twitch; experience had taught him that these particular gym mothers were likely to swarm him if he so much as smiled at them, particularly when a baby was involved.

Instead, he steeled himself and looked back over towards Kaia and sighed as his gaze found her just as she hit the springboard and flew into the air, skewed to the side as she left the vaulting table. As a result, she didn't get the height she needed and smacked face first into the foam. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, taking a deep breath and hoping fervently that Kati didn't develop a passion for dangerous athletics.

…

A handful of runs at the vault, no more misses and a good deal of improvement later Kaia and her group moved on to their final stretches before gathering their things. Grissom met her at the bottom of the stairs, having hung back to let the estrogen cloud pass by him first.

"Hi daddy," she grinned, wrapping strong arms around his waist. "Did you see me working on the double twist?"

"I was very impressed," he assured her, unable to hold back a smile at her enthusiasm. As usual she was caked in chalk; she had put on a tracksuit and boots in the locker room, but the stuff still clung to every scrap of exposed skin and even her thick chocolate brown ponytail. "Have you got your coat? It's chilly outside; there are a lot of clouds today." Kaia dropped her gym bag and rummaged inside, extracting her jacket from the pile of school clothes stuffed inside.

"Mr. Whitcomb was talking about storms in social studies today," she informed him as she zipped up. "I think he's a little obsessed with weather," she said in a quietly telling but serious tone. "He said there will be a lot of rain tonight."

"Did he now?" asked Gil, picking up her school bag as she shouldered her gym stuff.

"Yep, he seems to think he's something of a meteorist specialist."

"Meteorological," corrected Gil with a smile as he opened the door and winced at the blast of air. Kati, snuggly wrapped in her blanket, turned her face into his shoulder and continued to snooze.

"Yeah that," shrugged Kaia, following him out of the door, pausing when she heard someone shout her name. A small object came flying her way, and she caught it easily, throwing a cloud of chalk into the air as it smacked into her hands, decorating the front of her coat in a fine mist of the white powder. "Thanks Lucy," she yelled back, stuffing her grip bag in with her other gym stuff. As they reached the car Grissom couldn't help but smile again as Kaia climbed in and began her post workout analysis of each and every skill she had worked on. She talked as much to herself as to him as he secured Kati in her car seat.

"You looked really good out there kiddo," he said, glancing at them both in the mirror as he stopped at a red light.

"Maybe," shrugged Kaia, "but I can't wait to start doing floor routines again; there's only so much tumble track into the pit a girl can take." She sighed and slipped her foot out of its fuzzy boot, staring at the brace with distaste. "I can't believe I _still_ have another month in this thing." She tugged her boot back on and turned to glare out of the window. "Stupid, brainless, flea-bitten dog," she muttered darkly.

Living with five women, Grissom knew when a conversation was over, and when it was best not to say anything at all. Now he drove quietly as Kaia fumed over Hank breaking her ankle for a few minutes, before becoming preoccupied again with evaluating her workout. Five months, a considerable amount of training invested in him and the loss of his testicles had made Hank a much more manageable pet, but Kaia still held a grudge Gil suspected would linger for years. Kati on the other hand, was growing more attached to the dog by the day.

Pulling into the garage as the first few raindrops began to fall, he happily noted Sara's car parked in its spot. She had called him during breakfast to say she had to work a double because the sheriff was insisting her case be put to bed as soon as possible. Now, as the three of them trooped into the house he found her sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and reviewing the answers to someone's mathematics homework that had been left out. Sprawled in his basket, Hank was observing with the droopy eyed expression of betrayal he'd worn since coming home from the vet.

Kaia scowled at him and picked up the orange tabby cat twining around her legs before heading upstairs for a shower. Gil put Kati down on the play mat in the corner of the room; she would wake up soon and be very grumpy if she found herself in a chair she needed help getting out of.

"Long day?" he asked his wife, resting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing gently.

"Exceedingly," she replied, her head falling back in pleasure as he kneaded away the tension in her muscles. "Dear god I love you," she murmured, eyes closing. He slid onto the bench next to her and wove his fingers into her hair, gently pulling her towards him. Their lips met and Sara melted against his chest, arms draping around his neck.

"Mmm… I missed you at work," she sighed when they pulled apart.

"And I'm going to miss you tonight," he murmured, kissing her again and putting thoughts of her night off out of his mind. Hank snorted noisily and rolled over heavily in his basket.

"What's up with him?" asked Grissom, looking at the dog.

"He's in time-out," said Sara darkly.

"Uh oh, chasing cats again?"

"Yes," grumbled Sara, snuggling against him. So far most of Hank's behavior issues seemed to have been resolved; more often than not he listened to commands and rarely descended into hyperactive chaos. He had not, however, given up his favorite game.

"You'd think he'd learn not to bother Isis," mused Gil, "considering the amount of times she's beaten him to a cowering pulp."

"He didn't chase Isis," Sara's tone was somewhat menacing as she kept one eye on the dog in question. Her tone made Gil almost afraid to ask which cat the dog had gone for, if he hadn't chosen his favorite target. He was saved from opening his mouth when Sara ground out, "He went after Ghost."

Griss winced and looked almost pityingly at his dog; not only was he busted for chasing a cat, but Sara's cat as well. Stupid dog, he thought, he'll never learn. As he looked on, Hank stood and stretched lazily. Sara's eyes narrowed as the dog turned a circle in his basket before lifting a paw out and stepping onto the kitchen floor.

"Ah ah ah," she warned sternly. "Basket. Stay." Hank ignored her and climbed out, wagging his tail. Grissom cringed internally and looked to the side when he heard a giggle and a squeal of delight. Kati toddled forward toward the hound and clapped her hands. Hank looked at her, tongue hanging out in a silly dog grin as Kati pointed imperiously at the ground.

"id," she ordered him, and giggled again when he plonked his behind on the ground. Kati ran forward and wrapped her arms around him, tugging gently on his ears.

Astounded, Grissom looked at Sara, who was gaping at their baby.

"She just," she whispered, floundering. He looked back in time to see Kati tap Hank twice on the shoulder and clamber rather ungainly up onto his back, leaning forward to wrap her arms around his neck. The dog waited patiently and then scrambled to his feet, trotting out of the room, leaving two very stunned parents behind.

...

...

Kind of a long fluffy one, but I felt Hank's story needed a little more tying up.

ET's next chapter is about fifty per cent done.

R&R Pretty Please


	10. Katja and Corinna

Sara and Greg sat on the deck, talking quietly and drinking tea as the sun slid lower and lower across the sky.

"I have a question," said Greg suddenly, abruptly remembering something he had wanted to ask for months.

"Ask away," shrugged Sara, twitching a blanket closer around her body as a chill crept into the dusky air.

"Where did you get little bug nut's name? Katarina is unusual. It's pretty, but not one I've heard before."

A shadow of grief passed across Sara's face for a moment and Greg frowned.

"I'm guessing from that look that she wasn't named after Catherine." Sara shook her head with a snicker at that comment.

"Hey," Greg held up his hands in self-defence. "That was Nick's assumption, not mine."

"No, she's not named after Cath, though I'll admit that it is a Germanic, Swedish and Serbo-Croat form of Catherine." Sara sighed and quietly considered the choice she and her husband had settled on for their fourth child, remembering all too clearly their motivations. She was quiet for so long that Greg began to think she had either forgotten the question or was refusing to answer. When she did speak, it was with a tinge of sadness in her tone.

"I had two best friends at Harvard; we were the only three girls in Freshman Physics that year, and we got grouped together because of it. Katja Weismann was from Germany, and Corinna Smith was English but living in the US because her father was an Ambassador at the time. We lived together, studied together and partied together for four years."

"What happened?" he asked, sensing a sad turn to the story.

"Corinna died of a genetic heart condition on the first of March 2004. Ten days later Katja went to Madrid to speak at a conference. She never made it there."

"The train bombings?" he asked. Sara nodded, lips pursed as she thought back.

"I found out I was pregnant a few weeks later; I knew it would be a girl. Gil knew them both; we thought Katarina was fitting. Sophie came up with Paige as her middle name."

"No wonder you seemed so miserable back then," he mused softly.

"Corinna was living in San Francisco when she died; I went to her funeral a week after Sophie and Syd came home from four days in the hospital after that boy gave them ground pistachio. We really thought they were going to die. I was out of my mind with fear and grief; I hadn't slept in days and then I made the trip in fifteen hours, there and back.

"Two days after that the bombings happened; I knew Katja was going to be at the conference, she had sent me dozens of emails about her presentation, and I remember checking lists of the dead on the internet every few minutes, just hoping she hadn't been on one of those trains. It was over two weeks before her family got her body back for burial; I went to Munich for the funeral. I wasn't even in the country for a whole day, but I remember standing at the grave and crying more than I ever had in my life, thinking the entire world was disintegrating around me.

"I came home and went back to work. I was exhausted but I couldn't figure out why; I wasn't sleeping any less than normal. Work was work; the usual. Then, on the first of April, my grandmother was out jogging when she was hit by man fleeing the scene of a robbery on a motorbike. She died a month later to the day. I honestly don't remember after that, until the morning after the cop pulled me over. Gil and I had been trying to sort ourselves out for months, living together part of the time, hating each other the rest. He decided enough was enough right there and then; he realized there was something wrong and forced me to see a doctor who diagnosed not only the fact that I was pregnant, but also antenatal depression, brought on by the combined emotional turmoil of the past few months, and the changes in my body chemistry.

"I hate talking to shrinks, but seeing the PEAP counsellor was the best thing I could have done right then; I can't give her enough credit for how much she helped me. Neither can I give Gil enough credit for determining we would make us work."

Sara fell silent again, tracing the pattern of stitches in her blanket with a finger. "It was hard," she said at last, "but so worth it. I love him."

...

...

This one has been in my head for years, and when I started thinking the other day about Kati making her entrance into the world I had to write it down. There will be one or two more excerpts surrounding Kati's arrival, inspired (I admit) by the conclusion of Hank's trilogy. The more I write about her, the more attached I'm becoming to her. Confession time; Kati was dreamt up purely as comic relief when I started the series.


End file.
